


A Place to Call Home

by booksaremyreality



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Bullying, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Volleyball
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-08-09 15:03:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7806517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/booksaremyreality/pseuds/booksaremyreality
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kunimi is doing his best to stay afloat in the ever turbulent sea of academics, social interaction and volleyball. Somehow, someway, something has to give.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Place to Call Home

**Author's Note:**

> a few things:  
> While I have had a bit of experience with depression (meaning I have friends who struggle with it) I myself have never had it so if there's anything glaringly wrong please feel free to point it out and reprimand me. 
> 
> did the barest read over so please point out any typos. 
> 
> trigger warning for a sort of mental break down due to depression and academic pressure. also trigger warning for child abuse (although it's only reference in like a sentence).

Kunimi opens his eyes to a dark room. He takes one large breath, and then another, rolling his neck in an attempt to stretch his sore shoulders. The joints in his fingers and elbows ache as he rolls over slowly to check his phone. It’s only just after 4:00 am, a good few hours before his alarm is supposed to go off, but he knows he won’t be able to go back to sleep. Two texts from and a missed call from Kindaichi tells Kunimi that he’s still struggling with that chemistry assignment due Friday, and that eventually he’ll need Kunimi’s help. 22 texts in the volleyball group chat from the four third years going back and forth as to whether or not to cancel morning practice on Saturday due to the blizzard warning; they decide to make it optional.

For a while Kunimi just lays in bed, limbs stretched out to touch all four corners, and listens to the sounds of other early risers preparing for the day. The sun won’t show its face until it’s close to time for Kunimi to go but the street lamp outside projects soft yellow light onto his window, highlighting the intricate frost that’s made it’s home along the edges of the glass. The digital clock on Kunimi’s phone goes from 4:11 to 4:12. Times passes over him and by the time he works up the energy to check his phone again it’s 6:53. He checks the snapchats he’s been neglecting and finally decides to get up, the spot he’s been laying in uncomfortably warm. He takes a seat at his desk and checks over his homework to make sure all of his answers are correct, then decides to get ahead because he has nothing else to do. He pulls out his 19th century world history textbook and begins to read the next chapter, underlining the important parts.

After 15 minutes a little hiss breaks Kunimi’s focus and he looks up to see his pet snake staring at him. He opens the top of the cage and lets her slither onto his hand and wrap her tail around his wrist.

“Hello, Hebi-kun,” He says quietly, rubbing a finger over her triangular shaped head. He transfers her onto his right hand so he can continue annotating with his left and just as his alarm goes off he finishes the chapter. Having showered the night before, Kunimi puts on a clean uniform, grabs his school bag and heads downstairs. Thankfully his mom isn’t awake yet. He puts a piece of bread in the toaster and pulls out the butter and strawberry jam. By 8:10 he’s out the house.

Cold air burns in his lungs the minute he steps outside but that’s to be expected in mid January. Kunimi is half way to school when he realizes that he forgot to take his medication for the fourth time in a row, maybe that’s why he feels he’s moving through a pool full of jello. He stops right there on the sidewalk, unwrapping the scarf from around his face, and just breathes for a few minutes. He can do this. _Just move, c’mon, move your fucking feet_.

“Kunimi!” A familiar voice calls. He turns to see Iwaizumi and Oikawa, who apparently spent the night together if the numerous hickies on Iwaizumi’s neck are anything to go by.

“Kunimi-chan!” Oikawa coos; he stretches out his arms to try to envelop Kunimi in a hug but he ducks smoothly out of the way. “How is my precious kouhai?”

“I’m fine Oikawa-senpai, and you?” Oikawa pouts exaggeratedly.

“I don’t appreciate being lied to, Kunimi-chan.”

“Really, Oikawa-senpai, I’m fine.”

“Drop it Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi growls, yanking Oikawa back by the hood of his jacket. Oikawa squawks indignantly but relents, standing to the right of Kunimi. Iwaizumi stands to his left and Kunimi can almost feel the concerned look they share over his head. The three of them walk to school, running into Watari on the way. Oikawa insists on walking Kunimi to his classroom.

“See you at practice, Kunimi-chan!” He waves, smiling widely. Although his face doesn’t show it, Kunimi can’t help but be embarrassed by Oikawa’s doting, mother-like qualities. There’s still five minutes till class starts and the minute Kunimi sits down he’s bombarded with questions by the girls in his class.

“Kunimi-kun, are you _friends_ with Oikawa-senpai?” One girl asks.

“He’s so hot and cool, I wonder if he’s single?” Another one giggles.

“There’s no way someone as _lame_ as Kunimi is friends with someone like Oikawa-senpai.” A boy scoffs. Kunimi ignores them all, pulling out the notebook for his first period class. He looks up to see Oikawa still standing in the doorway, the corners of his mouth tipped into a frown.

Kunimi gets two tests back today, both in his worst subjects: English and Literature. He gets in the 50’s on both of them, _mother will not be pleased_ , he thinks to himself. His mind feels foggy and his limbs heavy throughout the day. He can barely keep up with the conversation being held a lunch, quietly eating the bar he threw in his bag this morning.

“Is that all you’re having, Kunimi?” Watari asks. All eyes at the table turn to him.

“Uh, yeah, I … forgot to make a bento and don’t have any money with me today.”

“You need to eat more than that, or you’re going to pass out during practice,” Yahaba insists. “Here have a riceball.” Yahaba hands him over the seaweed wrapped riceball which he eats dutifully, even though he feels uncomfortable full after just a few bites. The last bite hits the bottom of his stomach like a stone, and he frowns a little.

Kunimi is barely aware of the time passing but before he knows it, it’s time for practice. A headache has been building behind his eyes since third period and the loud shouts from the gym bring it to an agonizing crescendo. He presses the heels of his palm into his eye sockets, hoping to somehow dissipate the pressure but it doesn’t help. A sort of unfounded anxiety has been buzzing in the back of his mind all day and feels like he’s on a razor’s edge, just on the cusp of some sort of mental breakdown. Somehow he makes it through practice, although he plays like shit, and while he’s in the middle of taking down the net he can see the 3rd years in a huddle near the baseline. Oikawa whispers something in Hanamaki’s ear and then they all look at Kunimi.

When they’re done with there little secret meeting, they begin to pick up balls around the court, idly talking about who gives the best hugs.

“No contest,” Hanamaki snorts, “I give the best hugs, ask anyone.”

“And that, my dear Makki, is where you’re incorrect. My hugs are practically god-like.”

“Fine, you’re on Oikawa, let’s take it to a vote,” Hanamaki says. “Hey, you guys! Who gives the best hugs me or Shittykawa over here?” Iwaizumi votes Oikawa and Matsukawa vote Hanamaki (of course). Watari shyly admits that he thinks Oikawa’s hugs are really nice, complete with a blush which of course has Oikawa cooing and wrapping him up in one of said hugs.

“This is why you’re my favorite kouhai, Shin-chan.”

“Hanamaki,” Yahaba says, straight faced. Oikawa squawks.

“Betrayed by my own protegé, Yabaha-kun I thought what we had was special!” Yahaba merely rolls his eyes at Oikawa’s dramatics. Kindaichi votes for Hanamaki and Kyoutani grudgingly admits that Oikawa gives better hugs.

“Kyoken-chan!” Oikawa’s eyes get a little misty and he tries to give Kyoutani a hug as well.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” He growls, running away with a blush rising on his neck.

“Wait, but that’s a tie,” Iwaizumi points out. “There’s an odd number on the team, who didn’t vote?” Kunimi stays quiet and hopes that they won’t notice but of course Oikawa, ever observant, sees Kunimi trying to sneak away to the locker room.

“Kunimi-chan!” He cries. “Stop right there, mister.”

Kunimi freezes, shoulders hunched and turns around.

“You need to vote too! This is a mandatory team activity.”

“Well I’ve only been hugged by Oikawa so I couldn’t vote fairly,” Kunimi points out. Hanamaki appears to take that statement as a challenge and begins to chase Kunimi around the gym.

“Please don’t, Hanamaki senpai,” Kunimi says tonelessly while dodging his third attempt at a hug. Iwaizumi protests half-heartedly but Kunimi can hear the smile in his voice. Kunimi, not paying attention, slips on a patch of water but Hanamaki grabs him before he can fall.

“Whoops, there you go.” Reeling him in by the grip he has on his arm, Hanamaki tucks Kunimi’s head under his chin holding him tight. Kunimi struggles for a little bit, but Hanamaki’s embrace is so warm and comforting that Kunimi just … breaks down.

He grips the sides of Hanamaki’s shirt and sobs helplessly into his shoulder, overwhelmed in a way that he cannot put into words.

“Kunimi?” Hanamaki says quietly, one hand coming up to cup the base of his neck. Kunimi tries to speak, to apologize for blubbering like a child but he can’t do anything but cry.

“Hey, it’s alright, shh, it’s okay.” Hanamaki’s other hand rubs up and down his back.

“Kunimi-chan, are you alright?” Oikawa asks tentatively, putting one hand on his shoulder. Kunimi shakes his head.

“Hey, I’m gonna bring him to the locker room.”

“Yeah, alright, we’ll handle clean up.”

Hanamaki pulls back a little so that he and Kunimi are side by side instead of facing each other and guides him away from the worried looks of his teammates. He sits him down on the nearest bench, leaves for a moment then comes back with a cup of water.

“Thank you, Hanamaki-senpai.” Kunimi takes the cup with shaky fingers and drains it quickly, a little more in control now. There’s silence between the two volleyball players while Kunimi gets his breath back.

“Wanna talk about it?” He asks. “I mean you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I’m fine, Hanamaki-senpai.”

“I guess you an’ me have different definitions of the word ‘fine’, ‘cause that sure as hell didn’t look _fine_ to me.”

“I–” Kunimi hesitates for a moment “–I have clinical depression, and I keep forgetting to take my meds. But it’s not just that. I haven’t been sleeping, my grades have been slipping, my mother, well that’s a whole other shit storm,” Kunimi says bitterly. “I’m a scholarship kid, you know? I have to keep my grades up or else I can’t stay and I’ve just been feeling really overwhelmed lately.” Hanamaki hasn’t reacted. “Hanamaki-senpai, have you ever just wanted to lie down and never get up? Or … it’s like I just need a second, a minute, a day or two to catch my breath but it never stops. It’s like every day there’s something else that I have to deal with and I just feel like I’m drowning constantly.” Kunimi cracks his knuckles nervously, scared to look Hanamaki in the eye.

“Do you always feel like this?” He asks finally.

“Um, not really, it’s way worse when I’m off my meds but there’s always those little feelings of doubt, you know?”

“Well I can’t say that I know exactly how you’re feeling, because every person’s situation is unique but I do know that it would probably be better if you didn’t forget your meds right?”

“Yeah …”

“Do you … do you want one of us to remind you? Like in the mornings one of us can text you or something, I mean like only if you want to.”

“I … that’s very thoughtful of you Hanamaki-senpai.”

“Sure, of course! Kunimi, if you’re ever feeling overwhelmed or just need someone to talk to, we’re always here for you okay? All of us. We’re a team, yeah? We gotta stick together.”

“Thank you Hanamaki-senpai.”

Like clockwork, the rest of the team trickles in as there conversation comes to an end. They clap Kunimi on the shoulder as they walk by, or ruffle his hair but no one comments on his cheeks blotched red from crying or bloodshot eyes.

When Kunimi gets home his mother chews him out for his low grades, even going so far as to slap him once before sending him up to his room with no dinner. He looks at the red numbers on the top of his sheet before pulling out his phone.

 

 **[Kunimi Akira]:** Is anyone good at English or Literature? I didn’t do so well on my last test.

 **[Oikawa Tooru]:** I can help Kunimi-chan! Lit is my best subject (/^▽^)/

 **[Watari Shinji]:** My mom is English, so I’m basically fluent, I could help if you like?

 

Kunimi smiles to himself and accepts their offers, arranging times to meet during the week. He does his homework and goes to bed, somehow managing to sleep through the night. He only wakes up 20 minutes before his alarm, which he counts as a personal victory, and one text from Hanamaki.

 

 **[Hanamaki Takahiro]:** Don’t forget your meds ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

  
Kunimi rolls his eyes at the borderline ridiculous emoji but texts back a thank you. Aobajosai is definitely someplace Kunimi wants to stay.

**Author's Note:**

> also note that Hanamaki is not a therapist or a psychiatrist, but he's just trying to be supportive in anyway he can.
> 
> constructive criticism welcome.


End file.
